FIC: Unpresentable ~ Chapter 3
Title: Unpresentable ~ Chapter 3
Authors: bugs and Aussie
Rating: T
Word Count: 2,200
A/N: Okay, we made it under the wire by half an hour in bugs' time zone! It's technically still Christmas!
~*~
Like a small child on Christmas morning, when Laura awoke, she immediately put on her robe and rushed downstairs to look under the tree. Although Bill had said that her gift wouldn't fit under it, surely he would have brought his mysterious offering into the ballroom...But there was nothing except the presents for the servants to be passed out during the Staff Ball to be held that evening.
And there was no sign of her husband either, now that she thought of it.
With a sigh, she turned back to the staircase. Might as well get dressed and search for Bill. She discovered him in his dressing room, looking perfectly innocent as he pulled the knot snug on his necktie.
"Merry Christmas, darling," he said with a kiss. She peered around the darkly paneled room; what an excellent place to hide her gift...
"Hungry?" he asked.
"Yes, yes," she said, disappointed at finding nothing. "I'll be dressed in a jiffy."
Bill made them breakfast, having insisted that the staff have the morning off. They sat at the corner of the huge kitchen table and ate his handiwork.
"You are a wonderful chef, Bill," Laura enthused. "You should cook for me more often."
He poured her more coffee. “Or you for me. You can wear your mink coat.”
She nibbled on the edge of the toast. "That coat did serve its purpose, if you remember, but it is not very practical for cooking," she mused, but her gaze was roaming the big kitchen. Had he brought a present into the room?
"Guess I'll go read the morning paper in front of the fire," he said after washing the few dishes that he'd dirtied. As usual, he'd shown great economy with his cooking.
"All right," she said slowly, her vexation growing.
She wandered the house, straightening all the objects that she found out of place after last night's invasion of children. Gazing out the large windows, she watched the advancing clouds cover her city. They should walk Jake before it started to rain.
Joining Bill in the library, she made this suggestion. He glanced at the tall clock against the wall. "'s'pose you're right," he said, rising with a groan. He smoothed down his tie and smiled at her absent-mindedly.
She writhed with impatience inside, but pasted on a smile. "Let me retrieve a wool hat that will go with this suit," she murmured.
Elosha appeared when they were in the foyer trying to calm a dancing Jake long enough to snap on his leash. "It's frightfully cold out there, Miss Laura," she chided. "Be sure to wear a warm cloak."
"Yes, yes, dear," Laura said, flipping through the options in the large closet. Usually Old Jaffee determined the best garment for her, she realized with a jolt. On her own, she found herself dithering. Finally she tugged loose a silver fox cape that went well with her red and grey houndstooth wool suit, and handed Bill his thick camel coat with the mink collar. "If this keeps the creature warm in the Arctic, it should keep me warm," she announced.
Bill dropped the cape on her shoulders and she secured her hat with a long silver pin while he pulled on his coat.
"Take an umbrella too," nagged Elosha.
"I thought you were to be taking the morning off," Laura said, trying to get on the offensive. She pulled on black leather gloves.
"What am I to do?" Elosha sputtered. "Sit around my room with my feet up?"
"Yes!" Bill and Laura said in unison.
With a snort and swish of her skirts, the ladies' maid made her retreat.
Jake's leash secured, Bill opened the door for Laura. She was immediately hit in the face by a gust of cold wind; a storm was moving up the San Francisco hills toward their perch.
"Dear me, I do believe that Elosha is right."
"Do you want to stay behind?" asked Bill. "I can take Jake for a spin and be back in a jiffy."
"No, not at all," she said, tucking her arm through his elbow. "I've got you to keep me warm..." She steadied herself on the slick sidewalk. "...and upright."
They strolled along the silent sidewalks. Few automobiles passed but they waved at them all. Occasionally, a footman would be out front of a mansion, sweeping away the few stray leaves from the stoop, waiting for the Christmas day guests to arrive.
"Good day, Mrs. Adams!" called out Harry, the butler for the Jamison family. "Be seeing you for New Year's!"
Laura waved back with a social smile but as soon as they were past, remarked to her husband, "It's our custom here on Nob Hill to make house calls all evening on New Year's...." She leaned against his shoulder. "...But this year, I'd prefer a more intimate celebration."
Bill pressed his lips to her temple and chuckled. "Perhaps we can both come down with a twenty-four hour cold, and be forced to take to our bed."
"I like your way of thinking, Mr. Adams--"
"And we'll slip out the back door...There's some great roadhouses down the coast, where we can dance until dawn and no one will know our names."
"An even better idea, darling." She laced her fingers through his and squeezed hard.
Then she realized that he had led her down one of the side alleys in the neighborhood, Lilac Lane. Her smile faded. Before the 1906 earthquake, her father had owned this entire city block for his estate. Their grand old house had burned to the ground in the conflagration, and when Edgar Roslin had rebuilt, the mansion was now oriented to face the bay views, leaving this back corner undeveloped. It had once held her mother's favorite garden, the few times that the elder Mrs. Roslin had left her parlor.
Once the rest of her family was dead, and Laura took over the home, she found herself reluctant to venture into that overgrown garden. It felt haunted in many ways. When she had the gardens redesigned about ten years ago, she'd had a high brick wall built to shut it off, telling herself it was too dark and dank to be included in her vision.
But there was a small access gate from the lane which stood ajar. Jake suddenly darted through it, yanking free from Bill's slack hand.
"Jake, bad boy!" Laura called out fretfully. No, she didn't consider it haunted at all--
"It's all right," Bill said with a smile, pushing the gate the rest of the way open. "Let's see what he found."
"No, Bill," she said. "I'll just wait out here."
He tugged her hand. "I'm afraid," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I need your protection."
"Don't be silly," she grumbled, sticking close to his side as they squeezed through the narrow gateway.
The garden was terribly overgrown, but someone had recently trimmed a path through the gnarled cherry trees and twisted old lilac bushes.
Through the thick branches, twinkling lights ahead drew them deeper. Still out of sight, Jake barked, but with excitement.
Laura remained frightened, even as she clutched at Bill's arm. "Jake!" she called out.
"He's safe and sound," Bill assured her, drawing her behind him. He pushed aside a rose bramble, holding it away so that she could pass.
She stepped into a tiny stone-lined glen. A faded redwood pergola sheltered a small wrought iron table and two chairs. White lights strung on wires hung above where blooms would be in the summer. Young Jaffee stood at attention beside a steaming samovar.
"Tea, my dear?" suggested Bill, holding out one of the chairs for her.
"Oh, Bill," she replied, shaking her head.
"Yes, I am a silly man," he said agreeably, easing her down onto the chair with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I hate to see my beloved wife afraid of anything, even a forgotten corner garden."
She opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. Taking her silence as agreement, Jaffee moved in and quickly poured two cups of piping hot tea.
Peeling off her gloves, Laura wrapped her hands around the warm cup. "I used to love coming to this spot," she said slowly. "I'd sneak outside when Mother thought I was in the nursery with my sisters."
"Elosha covered for you?" he suggested.
"Yes," she said with a sad smile. "Even though it could have cost her job if Mother ever found out. I was such a selfish girl--"
"Not you, Laura. You were a survivor. You came here to survive." He drew her hand to his lips.
"It's lovely in the spring," she told him, choking on tears. "All the lilacs are abloom, and daffodils come up through every crack in the rocks. Then in the summer, so many roses--you can get drunk on the scent...." His lovely face shimmered in her blurry vision. "Even before I knew what drunk meant, I felt it."
"That's the best kind of drinking. From the cup of life." He gave a twisted grin at his own frivolity.
"Let's keep imbibing and dancing until dawn," she asked him, grabbing both of his hands as though they were anchors.
"Easy enough request if it's with you." He tugged her to sit on his lap and she draped her warm cloak over him too.
"Such a romantic idea," she said.
"And a cold one," he said with a laugh.
She looked into the blank white sky. "Our first new year together. May it be the first of many."
He pressed his cold nose against her neck. He was still thinking of practical matters. "So there's no more hidden gardens in the corner of your life that we need to explore? Or at least, are they warmer?"
She suddenly came back to the present with a start. "Actually, there is one last fear..." She wiggled on his lap, rooting for her suit jacket pocket. She'd moved his gift from her purse and into the pocket of the day suit in the event that the perfect opportunity presented itself. This seemed pretty perfect.
He hung onto her and her large cloak for dear life and she finally held up her hand in triumph. "This!" she pronounced.
"This?" He furrowed his brow. She was holding a very common looking key.
She pressed it into his hand. "This."
"What's this?"
"The key--"
"To your heart?"
"Don't be silly, dear. Not when I'm being serious."
He schooled his features into what he hoped was a serious expression, fighting another grin.
"It's the key to a..." She gulped. "A Tilbury Flash racing monoplane."
"A what?" He stared at her.
"A racing aircraft," she managed to force out. "The gentleman at the airfield tells me it's simply the best available,and it has a lovely walnut dashboard--"
"Instrument panel," he corrected gently.
"And he promised me it was very safe..." She fought tears.
"Ah, baby--" He kissed her chilled cheeks until they flamed red.
"Don't call me baby," she murmured, sagging against him. That wasn't so hard after all.
"I promise you, I'll be safe as houses."
"I'm holding you to that," she said, burrowing into the crook of his neck.
"Darling!" he exclaimed, "Look!"
She turned into his lap.
Jaffee and Jake had moved out from under the pergola to give them privacy and were staring up at the sky in amazement. Snow, a rare occurrence in San Francisco, was gently falling, catching on the lights and causing them to sparkle.
"What a special day," Laura breathed.
"Just for us," Bill agreed, holding her tight.
Jake began to dart around, trying to catch the snowflakes in his mouth, but receiving nothing but frustration when they immediately disappeared as they touched his hot tongue.
Bill urged Laura to stand. "Let's join him," he said, pulling her into his arms.
They danced out from under their shelter and into the gently falling snow.
“Thank you for this gift, Bill. I have to believe you arranged the snow as well."
"If I could do such things, I'd be as wealthy as my wife!" he said with a laugh.
"I hope you enjoy your present as much,” she said sincerely.
"You know that I do. It's not something I would have done for myself," he said and she knew that he wasn't talking about the expense of an airplane.
"I racked my brain for weeks on what you would want, and then I finally realized, the real question was, what could I give you," she explained carefully. "In this case, it wasn't a financial expense, but something as dear."
"Yes," he said with that perfect understanding for which she was so grateful. She could never have been married to man who 'didn't get it.'
"I spent years trying to give my wife and boys what they wanted, and it never worked," he admitted ruefully with a shake of his head.
"Perhaps they couldn't accept what you had to give," she suggested, "but I am so grateful for your strength."
“In that case, come flying with me sometimes.” His smile was daring and he stroked the snowflakes from her curls.
"Let's not go that far," she said firmly. "One of us has to keep their feet on the ground."
He took that as a challenge, and literally swept her off her feet to whirl around, her cape swirling in a great sweep around them both.
~Fluffy as new snow ending!
Authors: bugs and Aussie
Rating: T
Word Count: 2,200
A/N: Okay, we made it under the wire by half an hour in bugs' time zone! It's technically still Christmas!
~*~
Like a small child on Christmas morning, when Laura awoke, she immediately put on her robe and rushed downstairs to look under the tree. Although Bill had said that her gift wouldn't fit under it, surely he would have brought his mysterious offering into the ballroom...But there was nothing except the presents for the servants to be passed out during the Staff Ball to be held that evening.
And there was no sign of her husband either, now that she thought of it.
With a sigh, she turned back to the staircase. Might as well get dressed and search for Bill. She discovered him in his dressing room, looking perfectly innocent as he pulled the knot snug on his necktie.
"Merry Christmas, darling," he said with a kiss. She peered around the darkly paneled room; what an excellent place to hide her gift...
"Hungry?" he asked.
"Yes, yes," she said, disappointed at finding nothing. "I'll be dressed in a jiffy."
Bill made them breakfast, having insisted that the staff have the morning off. They sat at the corner of the huge kitchen table and ate his handiwork.
"You are a wonderful chef, Bill," Laura enthused. "You should cook for me more often."
He poured her more coffee. “Or you for me. You can wear your mink coat.”
She nibbled on the edge of the toast. "That coat did serve its purpose, if you remember, but it is not very practical for cooking," she mused, but her gaze was roaming the big kitchen. Had he brought a present into the room?
"Guess I'll go read the morning paper in front of the fire," he said after washing the few dishes that he'd dirtied. As usual, he'd shown great economy with his cooking.
"All right," she said slowly, her vexation growing.
She wandered the house, straightening all the objects that she found out of place after last night's invasion of children. Gazing out the large windows, she watched the advancing clouds cover her city. They should walk Jake before it started to rain.
Joining Bill in the library, she made this suggestion. He glanced at the tall clock against the wall. "'s'pose you're right," he said, rising with a groan. He smoothed down his tie and smiled at her absent-mindedly.
She writhed with impatience inside, but pasted on a smile. "Let me retrieve a wool hat that will go with this suit," she murmured.
Elosha appeared when they were in the foyer trying to calm a dancing Jake long enough to snap on his leash. "It's frightfully cold out there, Miss Laura," she chided. "Be sure to wear a warm cloak."
"Yes, yes, dear," Laura said, flipping through the options in the large closet. Usually Old Jaffee determined the best garment for her, she realized with a jolt. On her own, she found herself dithering. Finally she tugged loose a silver fox cape that went well with her red and grey houndstooth wool suit, and handed Bill his thick camel coat with the mink collar. "If this keeps the creature warm in the Arctic, it should keep me warm," she announced.
Bill dropped the cape on her shoulders and she secured her hat with a long silver pin while he pulled on his coat.
"Take an umbrella too," nagged Elosha.
"I thought you were to be taking the morning off," Laura said, trying to get on the offensive. She pulled on black leather gloves.
"What am I to do?" Elosha sputtered. "Sit around my room with my feet up?"
"Yes!" Bill and Laura said in unison.
With a snort and swish of her skirts, the ladies' maid made her retreat.
Jake's leash secured, Bill opened the door for Laura. She was immediately hit in the face by a gust of cold wind; a storm was moving up the San Francisco hills toward their perch.
"Dear me, I do believe that Elosha is right."
"Do you want to stay behind?" asked Bill. "I can take Jake for a spin and be back in a jiffy."
"No, not at all," she said, tucking her arm through his elbow. "I've got you to keep me warm..." She steadied herself on the slick sidewalk. "...and upright."
They strolled along the silent sidewalks. Few automobiles passed but they waved at them all. Occasionally, a footman would be out front of a mansion, sweeping away the few stray leaves from the stoop, waiting for the Christmas day guests to arrive.
"Good day, Mrs. Adams!" called out Harry, the butler for the Jamison family. "Be seeing you for New Year's!"
Laura waved back with a social smile but as soon as they were past, remarked to her husband, "It's our custom here on Nob Hill to make house calls all evening on New Year's...." She leaned against his shoulder. "...But this year, I'd prefer a more intimate celebration."
Bill pressed his lips to her temple and chuckled. "Perhaps we can both come down with a twenty-four hour cold, and be forced to take to our bed."
"I like your way of thinking, Mr. Adams--"
"And we'll slip out the back door...There's some great roadhouses down the coast, where we can dance until dawn and no one will know our names."
"An even better idea, darling." She laced her fingers through his and squeezed hard.
Then she realized that he had led her down one of the side alleys in the neighborhood, Lilac Lane. Her smile faded. Before the 1906 earthquake, her father had owned this entire city block for his estate. Their grand old house had burned to the ground in the conflagration, and when Edgar Roslin had rebuilt, the mansion was now oriented to face the bay views, leaving this back corner undeveloped. It had once held her mother's favorite garden, the few times that the elder Mrs. Roslin had left her parlor.
Once the rest of her family was dead, and Laura took over the home, she found herself reluctant to venture into that overgrown garden. It felt haunted in many ways. When she had the gardens redesigned about ten years ago, she'd had a high brick wall built to shut it off, telling herself it was too dark and dank to be included in her vision.
But there was a small access gate from the lane which stood ajar. Jake suddenly darted through it, yanking free from Bill's slack hand.
"Jake, bad boy!" Laura called out fretfully. No, she didn't consider it haunted at all--
"It's all right," Bill said with a smile, pushing the gate the rest of the way open. "Let's see what he found."
"No, Bill," she said. "I'll just wait out here."
He tugged her hand. "I'm afraid," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I need your protection."
"Don't be silly," she grumbled, sticking close to his side as they squeezed through the narrow gateway.
The garden was terribly overgrown, but someone had recently trimmed a path through the gnarled cherry trees and twisted old lilac bushes.
Through the thick branches, twinkling lights ahead drew them deeper. Still out of sight, Jake barked, but with excitement.
Laura remained frightened, even as she clutched at Bill's arm. "Jake!" she called out.
"He's safe and sound," Bill assured her, drawing her behind him. He pushed aside a rose bramble, holding it away so that she could pass.
She stepped into a tiny stone-lined glen. A faded redwood pergola sheltered a small wrought iron table and two chairs. White lights strung on wires hung above where blooms would be in the summer. Young Jaffee stood at attention beside a steaming samovar.
"Tea, my dear?" suggested Bill, holding out one of the chairs for her.
"Oh, Bill," she replied, shaking her head.
"Yes, I am a silly man," he said agreeably, easing her down onto the chair with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I hate to see my beloved wife afraid of anything, even a forgotten corner garden."
She opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. Taking her silence as agreement, Jaffee moved in and quickly poured two cups of piping hot tea.
Peeling off her gloves, Laura wrapped her hands around the warm cup. "I used to love coming to this spot," she said slowly. "I'd sneak outside when Mother thought I was in the nursery with my sisters."
"Elosha covered for you?" he suggested.
"Yes," she said with a sad smile. "Even though it could have cost her job if Mother ever found out. I was such a selfish girl--"
"Not you, Laura. You were a survivor. You came here to survive." He drew her hand to his lips.
"It's lovely in the spring," she told him, choking on tears. "All the lilacs are abloom, and daffodils come up through every crack in the rocks. Then in the summer, so many roses--you can get drunk on the scent...." His lovely face shimmered in her blurry vision. "Even before I knew what drunk meant, I felt it."
"That's the best kind of drinking. From the cup of life." He gave a twisted grin at his own frivolity.
"Let's keep imbibing and dancing until dawn," she asked him, grabbing both of his hands as though they were anchors.
"Easy enough request if it's with you." He tugged her to sit on his lap and she draped her warm cloak over him too.
"Such a romantic idea," she said.
"And a cold one," he said with a laugh.
She looked into the blank white sky. "Our first new year together. May it be the first of many."
He pressed his cold nose against her neck. He was still thinking of practical matters. "So there's no more hidden gardens in the corner of your life that we need to explore? Or at least, are they warmer?"
She suddenly came back to the present with a start. "Actually, there is one last fear..." She wiggled on his lap, rooting for her suit jacket pocket. She'd moved his gift from her purse and into the pocket of the day suit in the event that the perfect opportunity presented itself. This seemed pretty perfect.
He hung onto her and her large cloak for dear life and she finally held up her hand in triumph. "This!" she pronounced.
"This?" He furrowed his brow. She was holding a very common looking key.
She pressed it into his hand. "This."
"What's this?"
"The key--"
"To your heart?"
"Don't be silly, dear. Not when I'm being serious."
He schooled his features into what he hoped was a serious expression, fighting another grin.
"It's the key to a..." She gulped. "A Tilbury Flash racing monoplane."
"A what?" He stared at her.
"A racing aircraft," she managed to force out. "The gentleman at the airfield tells me it's simply the best available,and it has a lovely walnut dashboard--"
"Instrument panel," he corrected gently.
"And he promised me it was very safe..." She fought tears.
"Ah, baby--" He kissed her chilled cheeks until they flamed red.
"Don't call me baby," she murmured, sagging against him. That wasn't so hard after all.
"I promise you, I'll be safe as houses."
"I'm holding you to that," she said, burrowing into the crook of his neck.
"Darling!" he exclaimed, "Look!"
She turned into his lap.
Jaffee and Jake had moved out from under the pergola to give them privacy and were staring up at the sky in amazement. Snow, a rare occurrence in San Francisco, was gently falling, catching on the lights and causing them to sparkle.
"What a special day," Laura breathed.
"Just for us," Bill agreed, holding her tight.
Jake began to dart around, trying to catch the snowflakes in his mouth, but receiving nothing but frustration when they immediately disappeared as they touched his hot tongue.
Bill urged Laura to stand. "Let's join him," he said, pulling her into his arms.
They danced out from under their shelter and into the gently falling snow.
“Thank you for this gift, Bill. I have to believe you arranged the snow as well."
"If I could do such things, I'd be as wealthy as my wife!" he said with a laugh.
"I hope you enjoy your present as much,” she said sincerely.
"You know that I do. It's not something I would have done for myself," he said and she knew that he wasn't talking about the expense of an airplane.
"I racked my brain for weeks on what you would want, and then I finally realized, the real question was, what could I give you," she explained carefully. "In this case, it wasn't a financial expense, but something as dear."
"Yes," he said with that perfect understanding for which she was so grateful. She could never have been married to man who 'didn't get it.'
"I spent years trying to give my wife and boys what they wanted, and it never worked," he admitted ruefully with a shake of his head.
"Perhaps they couldn't accept what you had to give," she suggested, "but I am so grateful for your strength."
“In that case, come flying with me sometimes.” His smile was daring and he stroked the snowflakes from her curls.
"Let's not go that far," she said firmly. "One of us has to keep their feet on the ground."
He took that as a challenge, and literally swept her off her feet to whirl around, her cape swirling in a great sweep around them both.
~Fluffy as new snow ending!